


(Mis)fortunes of New York City

by AnotherGallavichLove



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Cab Driver AU, Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6423424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherGallavichLove/pseuds/AnotherGallavichLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re really hot, you know that?” Mickey jumped at the voice, all but pouring directly into his ear. At some point, apparently the guy had leaned forwards, sticking his head in-between the two front seats so that he could look at the right side of Mickey’s face. His voice was dark, and under different circumstances, maybe Mickey even would have found it kind of… appealing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Mis)fortunes of New York City

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Death_by_Gallavich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Death_by_Gallavich/gifts).



> This is for Johna, who asked for an 'I left my phone in your cab' au for her birthday fic, I hope that you like it, hon! <3

Mickey’s foot laid resting softly on the gas-pedal as he clenched his eyes shut for a moment before opening them up again, hoping that the act might help some of the sleep seep out of his body. It was at times like these he was thankful that he had the job that he did - sure, sometimes he was forced to deal with sloppy drunks or women who talked way too much, but in the end he knew the streets like the back of his hand so he didn't have to think or focus all that much. Driving a cab was both the easiest and the most legal job that he had ever had in his entire life.

 

It had taken Mickey close to six months of living in New York City before he had felt completely comfortable in walking and driving around - not that he drove in his personal life, he got enough of that as work.

 

Now, close to a year after he had dragged both Mandy and Iggy out of the Milkovich house and up here, all three of the siblings shared a three bedroom apartment together. The truth was that it felt like paradise after growing up the way that they had.

 

Of course, in the beginning it had been tough to make rent, but pretty soon after the big move, Mandy and Iggy had both found jobs at this diner a few blocks from their apartment building. They hadn’t been able to hire a third person, but that fact hadn’t bothered Mickey all too much anyhow. He wasn’t sure that he would have been able to handle a job where he had to deal with people. Of course being a cab-driver he did have to deal with people, but he wasn’t forced to smile or be kind in the same way as his siblings were expected to.

 

Instead he could just sit in the drivers seat and mind his own business, especially when he was alone in the car.

 

Currently, he was driving towards a club downtown. A bartender had called for a cab to take someone home, and Mickey guessed that he would have to deal with another one of those drunk slobs - something that wasn’t entirely unusual on a friday night. The truth was that as long as they didn’t throw up in the backseat - which had in fact happened once or twice since he had had this job - he didn’t have much of a problem, he just ignored their babbling and drove to wherever they needed to be dropped off.

 

The clock was ticking closer and closer to one am, and Mickey was truly starting to feel the effects of driving this cab around for the better part of six hours. Thankfully, though, he guessed that this would be his last passenger for the night, then he would be able to go home and have a beer. Maybe watch some terrible slasher movie together with his brother.

 

A loud and tired sigh escaped his lips as he took his right hand off of the wheel, reaching up to attempt rubbing some of the sleep out of his eyes, hoping that the streetlights would stop blurring. The window right next to him was rolled down ever so slightly, letting in some of the fresh, rain air - well, as fresh as you could get in the middle of New York City, at least. Small, tiny droplets of rain fell onto the glass in front of him, and one of them caught his eye for a second. The car rolled forwards, taking meter after meter, bringing Mickey closer and closer to the club.

 

Mickey’s right hand was back onto the wheel by now, and he lifted his left one instead, his elbow being placed within the ‘L’ of the car window as he ran his fingers through the messy, black strands on top of his head. Back in the months before he and his siblings had left the south side, he had gone through a period where he had styled his hair using gel. He had since long abandoned that though; one reason was that because of the fact that he had a job where he basically just sat still all day, running his hand over his head was something that he ended up doing quite a lot. Another reason was that he didn’t really give a fuck how he looked - it wasn’t as if he had anytime to meet guys anyway. He worked and he slept - once in a while he would even and up having the time to cram some food down his throat to make sure that he didn’t starve.

 

A three bedroom apartment in New York was expensive as fuck, so if Mandy, Iggy and Mickey wanted to keep it - and they did, it was fucking perfect - this was how they all needed to live, and so far they were doing just fine with it. In fact, Mickey was happier with his life than he had been in ages.

 

By the time Mickey pulled up to the club, the sidewalk was littered with people; couples making out, couples screaming at each other, girls throwing up, guys punching each other. It was nothing if not complete chaos and in anything but a rare moment, Mickey was thankful that he didn’t have any time to go out. Sure, he liked to drink, he liked to fuck, he liked to smoke. But doing it all in one and the same place with bright, colored spotlights and loud music had never been his thing.

 

Said chaos aside, though, it was quite easy for Mickey to spot who he was supposed to drive home. Sort of on the sidelines, a few meters away from the crowd stood a guy, possibly a few years younger than Mickey himself. He looked quite tall, and his brown - or was it red? Mickey couldn’t quite tell from the car - hair was a complete mess on top of his head. A plaid shirt covered his upper body, a pair of dark skinny jeans pulled on over his legs. But most of all, he was being held up by a bouncer, because by the looks of it, he had consumed so much alcohol that he would stoop straight down into the wet pavement if the man was to let him go.

 

A loud sigh fell out of Mickey’s mouth right as he pulled up to the curb, the bouncer helping the guy into the cab and slamming the door behind him, shutting them both inside.

 

“Where to?” Mickey asked without looking back; instead his gaze was focused forwards and he longed to just have an address so that he could step on the gas and get there as fast as humanly possible - and thereby get home to his own apartment as fast as possible because even his head was starting to hurt, reminding him of the sleep that he desperately needed to catch. At Mickey’s question, the guy mumbled something completely incoherent, making the driver roll his eyes. This had to be the worst thing about driving a cab - dealing with drunk slobs that didn’t know where the fuck they were or even who they were at times. It was almost worse than screaming babies and couples that fought. “You’re gonna have to say that again” Mickey spoke, voice sharp. At that statement, the guy mumbled something once again, only this time it actually sounded like an address - and a street that Mickey knew of - and he silently thanked god for that fact as he pulled the cab away from the curb, driving towards said address.

 

Mickey desperately hoped that the guy would either pass out or keep quiet; a lot of the drunk people he had to drive around were annoyingly chatty, something that just about made him want to drive the car down into the East river. Two, three minutes into the drive the car was still completely silent, though. Which meant that Mickey had just about started to relax when;

 

“You’re really hot, you know that?” Mickey jumped at the voice, all but pouring directly into his ear. At some point, apparently the guy had leaned forwards, sticking his head in-between the two front seats so that he could look at the right side of Mickey’s face. His voice was dark, and under different circumstances, maybe Mickey even would have found it kind of… appealing. Because of the alcohol that the guy had quite obviously consumed, though, it was unsteady and messy - making it that much easier for Mickey to ignore the previous stated possibility.

 

“Back the fuck up, man” Was all Mickey said. Really there was no rule as far as he knew that kept the passengers in the backseat, but in Mickey’s world - there was. He didn’t want to have any verbal or physical contact with the people he drove around beyond the necessary. It just wasn’t who he was.

 

“Why?” Mickey rolled his eyes, and his gaze ended up falling onto the rearview mirror, and suddenly he was looking into a pair of bright - while obviously intoxicated - green eyes. Mickey felt as if his throat just suddenly completely closed up, his stomach dropping. But it wasn’t a bad feeling, if he was being honest. It was just something that he had never felt before. The guy’s hair was indeed red, he realized now in the light of the cab. Red like the fur of a fox or some shit.

 

The second seemed to drag on forever, neither of them saying anything at all. Finally, though, Mickey swallowed as he shook it off, moving his eyes back to the road ahead of them.

 

“Because you’re too fucking close” He stated. The truth was that there were probably millions of better comebacks - all of which he would have been able to think of if he didn’t feel so confused all of a sudden.

 

Mickey kept his hands curled around the steering-wheel, still very much feeling the guy’s eyes on the side of his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to look back. Once in a while he would get girls flirting with him - though it was rare, of course - but he had to admit that this was the first time that this had ever happened. This was the first time that a guy had gotten into his cab bluntly flirted with him. This guy was good-looking as well, even if Mickey would have loved to fight that fact.

 

The man had a sharp, square jaw and a light wash of red stubble over the lower part of his face. The red hair on top of his head was quite long, a strand or two dropping down over his forehead. The green eyes were so deep that Mickey would probably be able to get lost in them, despite the current state of blankness.

 

What was pathetic was the fact that had Mickey wanted to, he surely would have been able to describe just about ever single detail of this guys basic appearance, and he had only had his eyes on him for all of a total of ten seconds or so.

 

A loud sigh echoed throughout the small car, and Mickey could both hear and feel the guy fall backwards against the seat, finally giving up and making the older man breath a sigh of relief himself.

 

A couple of minutes later, Mickey parked the car by the apartment building that the guy had asked to go through. The car stopped completely, and he waited a few seconds, but nothing happened. No door opened, and he didn’t even hear the guy move around. He rolled his eyes.

 

“Man, we’re here. You gotta go” All he got in response was a small sound somewhere in between a sigh and a groan, although it was just barely audible.

 

It made him turn around to see what was holding him up, and he found the guy’s neck tilted backwards, eyes closed as steady breaths escaped his nose. That drunk douchebag had fucking fallen asleep, fuck. That was another thing that Mickey hated about his job - despite the fact that he liked the overall job - it happened surely three to four nights a week that someone fell asleep in the backseat, and suddenly it was apparently in Mickey’s job description to poke strangers in the stomach - well, not literally, but still.

 

Before Mickey could get discouraged, he pressed his flat palm in the middle of the wheel, honking it roughly and sending the guy practically flying upwards, a string of low curses falling out of his mouth as Mickey did his best not to smirk at his misfortune of ending up in his cab. About a second or so after his wake-up call, the guy calmed down a little bit, reaching a hand up to rub some of the sleep out of his eyes.

 

“You had to honk?” He mumbled, and Mickey hummed. This guy had gotten into his cab, bluntly flirted with him - while making his stomach all fucking tingly and shit - then he had started drooling all over the seats or some shit. Mickey felt some disturbance the other way had been appropriate.

 

“Yeah” He said. “Now, get out. I got other people to drive home” The lie seemed to get the guy somewhat back to reality, and although he was clearly still intoxicated, the micro-nap seemed to have sobered him up just enough to reach into his pocket, pulling a few crumpled dollar bills out, handing them to the driver.

 

“That enough?” Mickey swallowed, his head tilting slightly to the side as he sorted through the bills in a matter of seconds - growing up with Terry had given him some useful skills - then he nodded.

 

“Yeah, we’re good” He assured his passenger, folding the money together and deliberately keeping his gaze nowhere near the other guy for the remaining few seconds for which he stayed in the cab. He didn't want to risk having to face that weird tingling sensation in his stomach again, it felt strange.

 

  
“What the fuck is with you?” Mandy asked from the other end of the couch in their livingroom, throwing a popcorn at her brother’s face as the words left her mouth.

 

The apartment that the three siblings shared together had once been a basement - and technically it still was. It wasn’t all that renovated at all; the floor and the walls were still made up out of nothing but grey, flat cement, and not much heat ran throughout said walls. There were of course, inner walls that made up the three small bedrooms with just enough space for a bed in each. There was also a bathroom. As far as the kitchen went, it wasn’t much more than a stove and a fridge placed up against one of the walls in the livingroom - or the main area of the place. They only called it a livingroom because it made sense; it was where they had placed the couch and the television that Iggy and Mickey had stolen off of a truck.

 

It was quite sloppy, some people would say, but the truth was that all three of them loved it. Thanks to the three windows put up into the longest wall, the cold apartment had nice lighting, and they also had their own private front door, which meant that nobody every really bothered any of them.

 

“Nothing, bitch. What the fuck?” Mickey asked irritated, slapping the air to get rid of the snack despite the fact that it had since long fallen onto the floor.

 

“You seem distracted, you’re not even watching the fucking movie” Mandy stated, annoyed. For the past twenty minutes, her brother had been staring straight ahead at the cold cement wall above the television set, face settled into a deep frown, his dark eyebrows knitted together, lips parted in thought. Iggy was placed in between them, but after close to three decades of dealing with his two younger siblings, he had learned how to tune out their bickering.

 

“‘M not fucking distracted” Mickey lied, and with that, thankfully his sister seemed to let it go - albeit with quite a visible eyeroll. The truth was that he didn’t know what the fuck he was other than fucked up; this had never happened to him before. He had never gotten that weird feeling in the pit of his stomach - and especially not around somebody that he had barely spoken a word to. He couldn’t get those green fucking eyes out of his head, and he wished so badly that he knew of a way to make them go away. The man hadn’t been more than one of the many drunk slobs that Mickey was constantly driving around - but this one, for some fucking reason seemed to stick with him even hours after they had split.

 

Mickey spend the next hour or so on the couch together with his siblings, watching mindless zombies eat brains and drip flesh. His elbow was on the back of the couch, temple leaned into his open palm. His eyes were focused on the television screen, brain to some degree accepting the pictures, yet Mickey wasn’t all there. He fought and he fought, yet somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to know more about the guy, even if it was just his fucking name or some meaningless shit like that.

 

  
The weekend passed in somewhat of a blur, with Mickey getting neither saturday, nor sunday off from work - which wasn’t an unusual thing, and actually something that he appreciated. At this point in his life, free time wasn’t worth all that much, he’d rather have some more money so that he, Iggy and Mandy could be somewhat secure. All three of them worked like dogs, but at least they got something out of it.

 

On sunday night, Mickey was driving around mindlessly, having just dropped off a woman at her home. He hadn’t received any calls to go pick somebody up at a specific address, so instead he had his chin leaned into his open hand, right one placed onto the steering wheel ahead of him as the ever so slight rain dripped down onto the glass layer ahead of him; it was so little that he could just barely see it, and he couldn’t hear it either, but it was there. Rain had been somewhat of a constant in New York in the past week, and it didn’t bother Mickey in the least. He liked it quite a bit, it made him feel calm in the best way.

 

Mickey passed a small library, a grocery store or two. Then he continued downtown, figuring that there might be somebody needed a cab down by the clubs again; granted a sunday night was never very hectic when it came to being a driver, but once in a while Mickey would find one of those drunk, unemployed men or women who had time to go out and dance on a fucking sunday. Lucky them - well, not actually, because Mickey would never really want to do all of that anyway, but there was a principle involved.

 

Mickey’s foot stayed resting on the gas-pedal as he drove through the city, taking street by street, not seeing much of a reason to drive very fast, he didn’t have anywhere to be - and with streets this skinny, speeding was nothing but a really fucking great way to cause an accident anyway. He swallowed, a soft sigh escaping his nose right as he ending up driving by a club where he picked quite a lot of people up.

 

Somebody was waving at the car he was driving, and he - embarrassingly quickly - recognized the guy. The truth was that he had almost forgotten about him by now; or at least that’s what he told himself as he slowed down, pulling up as close as he could to the sidewalk. The redhead didn’t seem quite as drunk now as he had been the other night - he was on his own after all - but he was certainly stumbling a little bit as he messily opened up the door to the cab, scrambling his limbs together as he climbed into the backseat. Mickey swallowed, waiting all but patiently for the drunk to collect himself a little bit.

 

“Where to?” Mickey asked out of habit; he didn’t get an immediate response back. He kept his eyes ahead on the dimly lit street, but he could feel the eyes on his despite this fact. Eyes that made his stomach turn in an all but unpleasant way.

 

“Hey” The guy finally laughed, and Mickey cracked, lifting his gaze to the review mirror much like he had done the other night. The guy was looking back at him, bloodshot green eyes looking into his own. His face was flushed red, lips pulled into a large grin - most likely thanks to the obviously large amount of alcohol in his system. “It’s you” Mickey’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as he let his head move up and down a few times in confirmation.

 

“It’s me” He stated, voice flat. “So where am I taking you?” He tried again; it was rare that he got the same passenger more than once, much less with such a short time span in between, but he decided not to think too much about it. He also decided not to think about how attractive the guy was, or how nice it had sounded when he had called him hot the other night, alcoholic mumble or not. No, Mickey didn’t want to think about any of that. he just wanted to drop this guy off because once he did, there was all of a one percent chance that he would ever see him again, meaning that he would be able to move on with his life and let the memory of the hot redhead fade to a distant one.

 

It was dramatic, but it was for the best. Mickey didn’t have time to be interested in anybody right now. Unless he was sleeping, he was working.

 

“My place” The guy finally sighed, slumping back against the seat. Mickey had half a mind to curse at him that he needed to give him a fucking address, but for some reason - despite the hundreds of people Mickey drove around a week - he remembered exactly where he had dropped this guy off. So he started driving, and thankfully, the redhead stayed quiet for a good while. A good while meaning a minute or two. Then he was leaned forwards again, talking over Mickey’s shoulder, just about straight into his ear. “I wasn’t lying, you know? Last time, when I said you were hot. You are. I can’t stop thinking about you” The man babbled, surely a fuck of a lot more talk-active than he would be if he were sober. Or at least Mickey fucking hoped so, otherwise it was a miracle that the guy was still alive at twenty five years old - or however old he was, Mickey was just making an educated guess based off of his looks and apparent lifestyle.

 

Mickey had to pretend that the surely meaningless words spoken into his ear didn’t do anything for him. Not only was this guy drunk - and quite possibly stoned - out of his fucking mind and didn’t know what he was saying, but even if he had been sober and Mickey had been interested - which he wasn’t, he had to remind himself. He wasn’t. He just didn’t have the time to hook up with anybody right now.

 

“Are you straight?” Mickey sighed, looking straight ahead, giving the guy no possible indication that he had registered the question. He had had girls flirt with him like this in the past, but he knew how to deal with them. Either he told them to back of or he threw them out of the cab, it depended on how determined they seemed. It was far more complicated when it was a guy. Not just a guy, but a guy that Mickey found attractive as fuck. Alas, he figured his best bet was to ignore him, at least as much as he could. “Fine, have it your way” The man sighed, once again sinking backwards against the seat; Mickey was thankful that he seemed to have given up on the whole flirting thing, at least for now.

 

And then it begun.

 

“I don’t know what I’m doing with my life anymore. I mean, I go out. Fuck random guys sometimes. It’s like a fucking ever ending circle, and I don’t know how to get out of it. I wish that I could do something more with my life, you know?”

 

Mickey almost sighed in relief; self pity was something he could definitely work with. It happened several times a night - some random drunk slob getting into his cab only to start ranting about his life problems. Self pity and sad ranting was something that Mickey by now was an expert at tuning out, he had been doing it for months upon months. A lot of the time he liked it because some stories made his own life feel like a fucking ball in a castle.

 

Tonight, though. For some fucking reason, he had a difficult time tuning this guy out. Instead he found himself listening, taking part in the stories about his life. Even in the short few minutes that it took to get to the guy’s apartment building, Mickey had found out that he was sick - bipolar, whatever the fuck that meant - and that he was scared that he would never be able to be viewed as something other than a fucking nutcase. Mickey stayed still with one hand on the wheel, gaze completely strained forwards as he pretended that none of the words escaping Ian’s lips impacted him at all. But they did. For some fucked up reason, they mattered.

 

“We’re here” Mickey’s voice sounded a tad too thick when he announced that they had reached their destination. The guy paid him and stumbled out of the cab, walking inside of the building. Then Mickey continued driving. He ended up taking a few more passengers that night, but he couldn’t quite shake the thought of little boy lost.

 

  
The next night, Mickey was of course working once again. Driving around town, picking people up, dropping people off, all the while fighting to keep his mind inside of the car and keep it from running away. The rain wasn’t as bad as it had been the past couple of days, but a few drops were still hitting the glass in front of his face, and he watched the wiper clear his sight for him over and over again. He ended up going by that club again, which he did quite a lot; he had his set out route that he drove every night, it was easiest and the more effective that way.

 

This night - despite the odds - that same guy ended up getting into Mickey’s cab once again. The truth was that Mickey had to fight not to smile. Damn it.

 

  
The next three or four nights were spent that way. Mickey would work for a few hours, then he would drive down to the club and for some fucking reason, he just knew that the guy would be waiting for him. Once he even thought he saw him wave another cab away before he got into Mickey’s. Nothing happened, of course. In terms of interaction, the nights weren’t all that different from the first two. The guy was always drunk off of his ass, and he either flirted with Mickey or ranted about his horrible life. None of which Mickey reacted very much to.

 

Mickey knew that it was risky to expect things from people; even if it was something as small as some random guy getting into his cab every night, it wasn’t as if that had never happened before. Sometimes his self set schedule would line up with the times that somebody wanted home every night - but it was rare, and for some reason this felt different. Mickey never talked to the guy about himself - he didn’t talk at all, actually - yet somehow he felt as if they had developed something. Not friendship, really. You couldn’t call it that. But he had to admit that the guy entertained him somehow; sometimes he made jokes that Mickey had to fight not to laugh at, and sometimes he would just rant and rant about something that his brother had said to him that had offended him.

 

Mickey guessed that the guy wouldn’t be half as entertaining, were he sober. But for now he decided just to go with it. It was only a few minutes out of his night after all, and it gave him the energy to work the rest of his shift. Why, he didn’t know. Maybe having some kind of consistency in what people he drove around just made his life feel more stable, even if it probably wouldn’t last for all that long.

 

  
“We’re here” Mickey spoke on the fifth night, bringing the car to a stop outside of the guy’s apartment building, much like he did just about every single night lately. His statement cut the other man off right in the middle of a long, mumbling want about how his mother had come to down, begging for his forgiveness or some shit. He seemed to have consumed a little bit more alcohol now than he had on the previous nights, and it was affecting his speech, so Mickey couldn’t quite make out every single word as well as he usually was able to.

 

“Oh, great” The guy sighed, and as he hassled out of the car, he mumbled something that sounded a fuck of a lot like. ‘ _See you tomorrow_ ’ and it made the corners of Mickey’s mouth pull upwards, despite his determination not to smile at all.

 

  
An hour or maybe two later, Mickey had parked the cab in its place where it would stay until tomorrow, and he was gathering up his jacket and wallet along with his phone, making sure that he didn’t forget anything since there was a possibility that he wouldn’t end up driving this exact cab for his shift in the morning. His head was starting to hurt a little bit, reminding him that he was severely lacking sleep at this point. It wasn’t an unusual thing these days; sure, it had crossed his mind to go down in time a little bit to make sure that he got enough time to sleep, but at this very point in his life, money was more important. Not because he was greedy, but because he and his siblings truly needed it to survive.

 

Technically, if you did the math, it was possible for Mickey to sleep enough even despite his crazy schedule. But he also needed to shower, he needed to eat, he wanted to be able to stay up and watch a few movies with his siblings sometimes, and before he even knew what hit him, he was sitting on the couch as three am with three more hours before he had to wake up. That’s about how it had been going for a while now.

 

In the midst of random thoughts running in and out of Mickey’s head, he turned around, looking in pretty much all areas of the cab just to make sure that there was nothing he was forgetting. He did have all of his own things, but something caught his eye in the backseat. The guy that he drove around every night had left his fucking phone - and yes, Mickey knew that it was his because it had a blue case, and he had seen him holding it a few times. It did honestly cross his mind to just leave it - it was technically his fault for getting so fucking piss drunk. Then again, the two of them had built up some kind of friendship - not that you could really call it that, fuck, Mickey didn’t even know the guys name. Alas, a loud sigh escaped his lips as he reached into the backseat to grab the device, deciding he’d figure out a way to get it back to him.

 

  
Mickey didn’t have to work the next day, save for a short shift late at night. That never fucking happened - maybe once every two months or some shit - so when he woke up that morning, he stretched a little bit, enjoying the semi-warm feeling of the covers enveloping him and knowing that he didn’t have to get up until he felt ready to. Muffled music reached his ears; it was most likely Iggy blasting his fucking death metal in the livingroom. Mickey had grown up with that though, so it didn’t bother him all too much anymore.

 

As much as he would have loved to be one of those people who could easily stay in bed until three pm, he never really had been. Once he was awake, he was awake. Staying in bed alone could get him to end up quite restless, so it was only about ten minutes after he had first opened his eyes that he forced his tired body toast up, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and standing up.

 

Like he had assumed, both of his siblings were already up. It was indeed Iggy’s music blasting throughout their cold apartment while he stood by the stove, spooning huge servings of stale cereal into his mouth. Mandy was sitting on the couch, watching some television show, the sound clouding together with the music, and Mickey wondered how either of them could focus on much of anything.

 

“Yo, Mick. You know who’s phone this is? Been buzzing all fucking morning” Iggy called Mickey’s attention, and the younger brother furrowed his eyebrows, walking over to the kitchen part of their place, looking in the direction in which Iggy was gesturing, his eyes landing on his passenger’s phone. Since he had gotten home deep into the night last night, he hadn’t had the energy to do anything with it other than drop it onto the kitchen island right before he went to bed.

 

“One of my regulars left it in the backseat” Mickey answered, and Iggy shrugged, going back to eating as his brother picked the device up, pressing the home button to see what all the apparent noise was about.

 

**Carl:** _Hey, this is Ian._

 

**Carl:** _Did anyone find my phone?_

 

**Carl:** _I’d really like it back as soon as possible._

 

Mickey stayed still, looking down at the phone in his hands, trying his best to come up with the best possible answer. What did he say? The guy didn’t seem to have any idea who had his phone, so how was he really supposed to let him know?

 

“Igg, we gotta go. Mickey, enjoy your day off. You fucking lucky bastard” Mandy spoke as she walked around him, dropping her dirty coffee cup into the small sink. Mickey looked up, saluting her, seeing no reason to point out that he actually didn’t have the day off for real, because with the crazy schedules that they all kept up, only working at night was as good as having a whole vacation day. That was honestly what it felt like.

 

“See you tomorrow” Mickey said, knowing that he would most likely be out the door before they came back home. The heavy door slammed behind his two siblings, and Mickey shifted his attention back to the phone in his hands. He tilted his head slightly to the side before finally giving up for the moment, putting the device back down onto the kitchen island to pour himself a large cup of black coffee, hoping that the caffeine would help his brain get some kind of a kickstart this morning.

 

The large windows let him know that the weather was just about as grey as it could possibly be, and he had to admit that it calmed him down a little, made some kind of peace settle throughout his veins as he plopped down onto the couch, phone and coffee in his hands as he went back to looking at the three in-a-row text messages sent from Carl’s phone.

 

Finally, Mickey realized that it probably didn’t matter all too much what he wrote back. The guy - Ian - would probably just be ecstatic that he could have his phone back. So Mickey swallowed and typed out a reply, making sure not to overthink it before he pressed send.

 

_Yeah, you left it in my cab. I got today off so just tell me where to meet you and you can have it back._

 

Mickey locked the phone, putting it beside himself on the couch as he lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, shifting his attention to the television that his sister had left on.

 

  
An hour or so later, Mickey was entering the little coffee shop where Ian had said to meet him so that he could give him his phone. It wasn’t all too foreign to Mickey, he had followed Mandy inside of this place quite a few times before just so that she could get her double mocha - whatever the fuck. The place was quite crowded though not to the point where Mickey really had to push and shove and elbow his way through the people. It crossed his mind to go up and order a coffee, but he decided against it. He had already had enough this morning, besides; it was then that he saw Ian.

 

His passenger - the guy he had been driving around every single night for the past week - was sitting there in broad daylight by one of the large windows, hand wrapped around a paper-cup, the red hair somehow even more highlighted in this lighting, despite the fact that it was gloomy as fuck outside. He had his head turned, looking out through the glass, so Mickey had to walk over there and put the phone down in front of his face to catch his attention.

 

“Here” Mickey spoke, letting the device drop. He for some fucked up reason felt a little bit nervous now; why he didn’t know. Maybe because in that cab at night when Ian had had a fuck ton of alcohol running throughout his veins, the older man had somehow had the upper hand, and now he didn’t. Not in the same way.

 

“Great, thanks!” Ian turned his head, smiling up at Mickey, voice filled with happiness. Their eyes fell on each other’s, and Mickey couldn’t help but register the fact that the green color seemed all the more vibrant without the redness clouding it. Something happened in his heart; it was as if it started beating a little bit faster, maybe a little bit more violently. Like it had done almost every single moment that he had spent with this man in the past few days. “You want to um… sit down?” The - surely - younger man gestured to the empty chair across from himself, and although Mickey hesitated for a second or so, he ended up accepting the offer, sitting down.

 

“That helping with your hangover at all?” Mickey half joked, nodding to the large cup of coffee that Ian still had his hand wrapped around. Their eyes were on each other’s again, neither of them wanting to break the contact and seeing no real reason to. Somehow it was as if they were complete strangers, yet had known each other for a long time. Maybe because of the late nights spent in that cab.

 

“Wha - yeah” Ian nodded, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he looked down at the hot beverage for a second before laying his gaze on the beautiful pair of blue eyes once again. “I’m sorry. About… You know, I probably don’t remember everything. But I’m sorry you had to deal with me”

 

“I’ve had worse” Mickey said without really thinking about the words. A small smile made its way across Ian’s lips, and both men were completely mesmerized at the beauty of the other person sitting in front of them, mesmerized as how their stomachs seemed to flutter just from being in each other’s presence.

 

“I don’t know your name” Ian stated then, voice soft. Almost wondering.

 

“Mickey”

 

“Mickey” Ian repeated quietly to himself, almost as if he was tasting it. Mickey was completely unable to take his eyes or mind off of him, and he didn’t want to.

 

  
“I have a bit of a confession to make” Ian stated with a sigh as they exited the coffee shop all of half an hour later or so; he stopped walking right outside on the sidewalk, making Mickey do so as well, turning towards him, the dark eyebrows raising a little bit as he waited for the taller man to continue. The light rain had started falling around them, soft tiny drops painting the ground around them a shade darker, piece by piece. “The first and second times were a complete coincidence, but after that I might have… made sure that it was your cab I was getting into” Ian admitted, eyes deep into Mickey’s, a hint of a smirk dancing on the thin lips.

 

“Man, I kind of figured that much” Mickey nodded, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from pulling upwards as well. He had been a cab driver for quite a long time now; that meant that he was well aware of how many cabs drove around the city every hour. The chance that Ian would end up taking his cab six fucking times in a row without trying? It wasn’t all that plausible - try impossible.

 

“The last few times I wasn’t all that drunk either. I just… kind of needed as excuse” Ian continued, his words speeding up ever so slightly, as if he wanted to get this overwith, as if he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t hiding anything from the other man. Mickey raised his eyebrows, trying to keep from laughing. Granted, somebody could fake being drunk - but not that well.

 

“That why your eyes were all red, huh? Is that why I know basically all your family history?” Ian chuckled, shaking his head slightly, his hands sliding down into his pockets as he took a short step backwards, head dipping, eyes focusing on his shoes. Mickey thought that maybe he could even see some red grow up his neck.

 

“No, I um… I was definitely drunk” Ian nodded, their eyes connecting once again. “Just not… that drunk” Mickey’s tongue darted out to swipe across his bottom lip as he nodded in understanding.

 

“Got it” Their eyes stayed connected; Mickey thought that he could fucking hear his heart beat. The task of breathing became a little bit more difficult than usual as well. Ian’s eyes were just too fucking bright; too fucking beautiful for him to focus on such a mundane task.

 

“One more thing”

 

“You honest about anything?” Mickey joked, both of them chuckling lowly, somehow drinking in each other’s presence for a little bit.

 

“I think I might have… left my phone in your cab on purpose. I was drunk, so I don’t remember exactly what went through my head but I um… I know that I really wanted to see you again, so…” This confession seemed to be a little bit more difficult for Ian to get out than the previous two - understandably of course. Depending on the receiver of the fact, it could be seen as crazy. But for some reason Mickey didn’t see it as crazy. In fact, it was sort of… sweet. Not to mention the fact that Ian had his shoulders pulled up to his ears, awaiting Mickey’s reaction. He looked fucking adorable.

 

“Why’s that?” Mickey just asked slightly teasingly, laying his head slightly to the side as he waited for Ian to answer him. He didn’t, though. At least not verbally. Instead Ian’s mouth was pulled into a large, kind smile as he slipped his hands out of his pockets, placing his right one softly against Mickey’s neck.

 

Mickey swallowed, letting his eyes slip closed right as their lips touched. Maybe it wasn’t seen as ideal or romantic - having your first kiss with somebody be on a crowded sidewalk in gloomy weather. But for Ian and Mickey, it was nothing short of perfect. The way Ian’s hand on his neck warmed Mickey’s skin up so fucking perfectly; the way his lips easily slipped in between his own as if they were meant to be there.

 

Mickey easily wrapped his arms around Ian’s middle, pressing himself a little bit closer to him as their tongues surely but softly slipped into each other’s mouths, sliding over the other’s. Their hearts seemed to beat a thousand times faster, almost to the point where they were sure that every single person in sight would be able to hear it.

 

Finally they let their lips slip apart, hands and arms still holding one another close, as if they never wanted let go. Both pairs of eyes blinked open, the men coming out of their daze, green falling onto blue. A soft, content sigh escaped Ian’s lips, fanning Mickey’s as the taller man dipped his head a little bit more. Mickey thought that he would go in for another kiss, but instead he cheesily rubbed their noses together, a happy smile stretching its way across his mouth.

 

Mickey let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle, attempting to press himself even a little bit closer to Ian. Somehow he knew that this was only the beginning of something that would matter to him for the rest of his life.


End file.
